


Like the Shot of a Gun

by littlegreyfish



Series: Consulting Drabbles [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlegreyfish/pseuds/littlegreyfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say shooting a gun causes the same chemical reactions in the brain as a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like the Shot of a Gun

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a tumblr post. Enjoy.

_Shooting a gun causes the same chemical reactions in the brain as a kiss._

Sherlock didn’t know why he kept this information stored in a tiny nook tucked away in his mind palace, but every time he was being shot at, it jumped to the forefront of his mind.

This seemingly useless piece of information went, for the most part, ignored from the moment he read about it in some journal that he can no longer remember the name of. Sherlock had more important things to think about, like how best to piss of his brother, or the two cases he was double tasking, or insulting Anderson.

But then John Watson limped into his life, and two months in to them sharing 221B, this tidbit is very, very relevant.

Sherlock had explained to John when they first met that he preferred to be married to his work. He wasn’t interested in any sort of relationship; more specifically, not one with him. Sherlock did not foresee actual feelings coming about. He’d never before experienced his endorphin levels rising as they did around John. Not even with his seven percent solution.

But John was heterosexual. He stated so, very firmly, about once a month. He’d been through multiple relationships with women of varying attractiveness. He clearly had no interest in a relationship with Sherlock. And the detective had to watch and watch as John left with these women for some boring dinner or film.

Sherlock was never good with expressing his feelings, unless of course it was frustration or disdain. He had never had romantic feelings to express before. But now there was John, who made his pulse rise and his stomach twist. There were times, like when they were walking home from a dinner at Angelo’s, that Sherlock wished to tell John how he felt, to see what would happen. Other times, when they sat on the sofa together and watched crap telly, he had the urge to pull John in for a kiss, to see what it would feel like, what his lips would taste like, what his brain would do from the contact.

They say shooting a gun causes the same chemical reactions in the brain as a kiss.

And that was how John found Sherlock that one afternoon: Shooting up a wall and suppressing a smile. Each bullet released from the chamber sent a rush through Sherlock’s chest, a flutter just behind his navel, a fuzzy feeling as his endorphins raised with the adrenalin.

“Sherlock, what the HELL are you doing?!” John’s voice broke through his thoughts just after the third shot.

_Pretending every time the bullet hits the wall, your lips are meeting mine._

“BORED.” _Yes, a suitable lie._

“What?” _Oh John._

“Bored, bored, bored.” Shot, after shot, after shot. _Lips, and tongue, and you and me._

One day, Sherlock promised himself as he watched John stalk up the stairs in a huff, he would find out if shooting a gun really did produce the same chemical reaction as a kiss.


End file.
